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CHRISTMAS EVE 




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WASHINGTON 



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IRVING 




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Philadelphia ^ ,^ ^ ^ ^ 

HENRY ALTEMUS 






Copyrighted, 1896, by Henry Altkmus. 



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HBNRY ALTBMUS, MANUFACTURBR, 
FHILAOELFHIA. 



^ 



OLD CHRISTMAS. 



CHRISTMAS. 

But is old, old, good old Christmas gone ? Nothing but the 
hair of his good, gray old head and beard left ? Well, I will 
have that, seeing I cannot have more of him. 

Hue and Cry after Christmas. 

A man might then behold 

At Christmas, in each hall 
Good fires to curb the cold, 

And meat for great and small. 
The neighbors were friendly bidden, 

And all had welcome true. 
The poor from the gates were not chidden 

When this old cap was new 

Old Song. 

Nothing in England exercises a more delightful 
spell over my imagination than the lingerings of the 
holiday customs and rural games of former times. 
They recall the pictures my fancy used to draw in 
the May morning of life, when as yet I only knew 
the world through books, and believed it to be all 
that poets had painted it ; and they bring with 
them the flavor of those honest days of yore, in 
which, perhaps with equal fallacy, I am apt to 
think the world was more homebred, social, and 
joyous than at present. I regret to say that they 
are daily growing more and more faint, being grad- 
ually worn away by time, but still more obliterated 
by modern fashion. They resemble those pictur- 
esque morsels of Gothic architecture which we see 

5 



O OLD CHRISTMAS. 

crumbling in various parts of the country, partly 
dilapidated by the waste of ages and partly lost in 
the additions and alterations of latter days. Poetry, 
however, clings with cherishing fondness about the 
rural game and holiday revel from which it has 
derived so many of its themes, as the ivy winds its 
rich foliage about the Gothic arch and mouldering 
tower, gratefully repaying their support by clasping 
together their tottering remains, and, as it were, 
embalming them in verdure. 

Of all the old festivals, however, that of Christ- 
mas awakens the strongest and most heartfelt 
associations. There is a tone of solemn and sacred 
feeling that blends with our conviviality, and lifts 
the spirit to a state of hallowed and elevated enjoy- 
ment. The services of the Church about this 
season are extremely tender and inspiring. They 
dwell on the beautiful story of the origin of our 
faith and the pastoral scenes that accompanied its 
announcement. They gradually increase in fervor 
and pathos during the season of Advent, until they 
break forth in full jubilee on the morning that 
brought peace and good-will to men. I do not 
know a grander eifect of music on the moral feel- 
ings than to hear the full choir and the pealing 
organ performing a Christmas anthem in a cathe- 
dral, and filling every part of the vast pile with 
triumphant harmony. 

It is a beautiful arrangement, also, derived from 
days of yore, that this festival, which commemorates 
the announcement of the religion of peace and love, 
has been made the season for gathering together 
of family connections, and drawing closer again 
those bands of kindred hearts which the cares and 



CHRISTMAS. 7 

pleasures and sorrows of the world are continually 
operating to cast loose ; of calling back the children 
of a family who have launched forth in life and 
wandered widely asunder, once more to assemble 
about the paternal hearth, that rallying-place of the 
affections, there to grow young and loving again 
among the endearing mementos of childhood. 

There is something in the very season of the year 
that gives a charm to the festivity of Christmas. 
At other times we derive a great portion of our 
pleasures from the mere beauties of Nature. Our 
feelings sally forth and dissipate themselves over 
the sunny landscape, and we " live abroad and 
everywhere." The song of the bird, the murmur 
of the stream, the breathing fragrance of spring, 
the soft voluptuousness of summer, the golden 
pomp of autumn, earth with its mantle of refreshing 
gTeen, and heaven with its deep delicious blue and 
its cloudy magnificence, — all fill us with mute but 
exquisite delight, and we revel in the luxury of 
mere sensation. But in the depth of winter, when 
Nature lies despoiled of every charm and wrapped 
in her shroud of sheeted snow, we turn for our 
gratifications to moral sources. The dreariness 
and desolation of the landscape, the short gloomy 
days and darksome nights, while they circumscribe 
our wanderings, shut in our feelings also from 
rambling abroad, and make us more keenly dis- 
posed for the pleasure of the social circle. Our 
thoughts are more concentrated ; our friendly 
sympathies more aroused. We feel more sensibly 
tiie charm of each other's society, and are brought 
more closely together by dependence on each other 
icr enjoyment. Heart calleth unto heart, and we 



8 OLD CHRISTMAS. 

draw our pleasures from the deep wells of loving- 
kindness which lie in the quiet recesses of our 
bosoms, and which, when resorted to, furnish forth 
the pure element of domestic felicity. 

The pitchy gloom without makes the heart dilate 
on entering the room filled with the glow and 
warmth - of the evening fire. The ruddy blaze 
diffuses an artificial summer and sunshine through 
the room, and lights up each countenance in a 
kindlier welcome. Where does the honest face of 
hospitality expand into a broader and more cordial 
smile, where is the shy glance of love more sweetly 
eloquent, than by the winter fireside .'' and as the 
hollow blast of wintry wind rushes through the hall, 
claps the distant door, whistles about the casement, 
and rumbles down the chimney, what can be more 
grateful than that feeling of sober and sheltered 
security with which we look round upon the com- 
fortable chamber and the scene of domestic 
hilarity ? 

The English, from the great prevalence of rural 
habit throughout every class of society, have always 
been fond of those festivals and holidays which 
agreeably interrupt the stillness of country life, and 
they were, in former days, particularly observant of 
the religious and social rites of Christmas. It is 
inspiring to read even the dry details which some 
antiquaries have given of the quaint humors, the 
burlesque pageants, the complete abandonment to 
mirth and good-fellowship with which this festival 
was celebrated. It seemed to throw open every 
door and unlock every heart. It brought the peas- 
ant and the peer together, and blended all ranks in 
one warm, generous flow of joy and kindness. The 



CHRISTMAS. 9 

old halls of castles and manor-houses resounded 
with the harp and the Christmas carol, and their 
ample boards groaned under the weight of hospi- 
tality. Even the poorest cottage welcomed the fes- 
tive season with green decorations of bay and holly 
— the cheerful fire glanced its rays through the lat- 
tice, inviting the passengers to raise the latch and 
join the gossip knot huddled round the hearth be- 
guiling the long evening with legendary jokes and 
oft-told Christmas tales. 

One of the least pleasing effects of modern re- 
finement is the havoc it has made among the hearty 
old holiday customs. It has completely taken off 
the sharp touchings and spirited reliefs of these em- 
bellishments of life, and has worn down society 
into a more smooth and polished, but certainly a 
less characteristic, surface. Many of the games 
and ceremonials of Christmas have entirely disap- 
peared, and, like the sherris sack of old Falstaff, are 
become matters of speculation and dispute among 
commentators. They flourished in times full of 
spirit and lustihood, when men enjoyed life roughly, 
but heartily and vigorously — times wild and pictur- 
esque, which have furnished poetry with its richest 
materials and the drama with its most attractive 
variety of characters and manners. The world has 
become more worldly. There is more of dissipa- 
tion, and less of enjoyment. Pleasure has ex- 
panded into a broader, but a shallower stream, and 
has forsaken many of those deep and quiet channels 
where it flowed sweetly through the calm bosom of 
domestic life. Society has acquired a more en- 
lightened and elegant tone, but it has lost many of 
its strong local peculiarities, its homebred feelings, 



lO OLD CHRISTMAS. 

its honest fireside delights. The traditionary cus- 
toms of golden-hearted antiquity, its feudal hospi- 
talities, and lordly wassailings, have passed away 
with the baronial castles and stately manor-houses 
in which they were celebrated. They comported 
with the shadowy hall, the great oaken gallery, and 
the tapestried parlor, but are unfitted to the light 
showy saloons and gay drawing-rooms of the modern 
villa. 

Shorn, however, as it is, of its ancient and festive 
honors, Christmas is still a period of delightful ex- 
citement in England. It is gratifying to see that 
home-feeling completely aroused which holds so 
powerful a place in every English bosom. The 
preparations making on every side for the social 
board that is again to unite friends and kindred ; 
the presents of good cheer passing and repassing, 
those tokens of regard and quickeners of kind feel- 
ings ; the evergreens distributed about houses and 
churches, emblems of peace and gladness, — all these 
have the most pleasing effect in producing fond 
associations and kindling benevolent sympathies. 
Even the sound of the Waits, rude as may be their 
minstrelsy, breaks upon the mid-watches of a win- 
ter night with the effect of perfect harmony. As I 
have been awakened by them in that still and solemn 
hour " when deep sleep falleth upon man," I have 
listened with a hushed delight, and, connecting 
them with the sacred and joyous occasion, have 
almost fancied them into another celestial choir 
announcing peace and good-will to mankind. 

How delightfully the imagination, when wrought 
upon by these moral influences, turns everything to 
melody and beauty ! The very crowing of the cock, 



CHRISTMAS. 1 1 

heard sometimes in the profound repose of the 
country, " telling the night-watches to his feathery 
dames," was thought by the common people to an- 
nounce the approach of this sacred festival. 

" Some say that ever 'gainst that season comes 
"VVherehi our Saviour's birth is celebrated, 
This bird of dawning singeth all night long ; 
And then, they say, no spirit dares stir abroad ; 
The nights are wholesome — then no planets strike. 
No fairy takes, no witch hath power to charm, 
So hallow'd and so gracious is the time." 

Amidst the general call to happiness, the bustle of 
the spirits, and stir of the affections which prevail 
at this period what bosom can remain insensible ? 
It is, indeed, the season of regenerated feeling — the 
season for kindling not merely the fire of hospitality 
in the hall, but the genial flame of charity in the 
heart. 

The scene of early love again rises green to mem- 
ory beyond the sterile waste of years ; and the idea 
of home, fraught with the fragrance of home-dwell- 
ing joys, reanimates the drooping spirit, as the 
Arabian breeze will sometimes waft the freshness 
of the distant fields to the weary pilgrim of the 
desert. 

Stranger and sojourner as I am in the land, 
though for me no social hearth may blaze, no hos- 
pitable roof throw open its doors, nor the warm 
grasp of friendship welcome me at the threshold, 
yet I feel the influence of the season beaming into 
my soul from the happy looks of those around me. 
Surely happiness is reflective, like the light of 
heaven, and every countenance, bright with smiles 
and glowing with innocent enjoyment, is a mirror 



12 OLD CHRISTMAS. 

transmitting to others the rays of a supreme and 
ever-shining benevolence. He who can turn churl- 
ishly away from contemplating the felicity of his 
fellow-beings, and can sit down darkling and repin- 
ing in his loneliness when all around is joyful, may 
have his moments of strong excitement and selfish 
gratification, but he wants the genial and social 
sympathies which constitute the charm of a merry 
Christmas. 



CHRISTMAS EVE. 

Saint Francis and Saint Benedight 
Blesse this house from wicked wight; 
From the night-mare and the goblin, 
That is hight good fellow Robin ; 
Keep it from all evil spirits, 
Fairies, weezels, rats, and ferrets : 

From curfew time 

To the next prime. 

Cartwright. 

It was a brilliant moonlight night, but extremely 
cold ; our chaise whirled rapidly over the frozen 
ground ; the postboy smacked his whip incessantly, 
and a part of the time his horses were on a gallop. 
*' He knows where he is going," said my compan- 
ion, laughing, " and is eager to arrive in time for 
some of the merriment and good cheer of the serv- 
ants' hall. My father, you must know, is a 
bigoted devotee of the old school, and prides him- 
self upon keeping up something of old English hos- 
pitality. He is a tolerable specimen of what you 
will rarely meet with nowadays in its purity, the 
old English country gentleman ; for our men of 
fortune spend so much of their time in town, and 
fashion is carried so much into the country, that 
the strong rich peculiarities of ancient rural life are 
almost polished away. My father, however, from 
early years, took honest Peacham * for his text- 
book, instead of Chesterfield ; he determined in 

* Peacham' s Complete Gentleman^ 1622. 

13 



14 OLD CHRISTMAS. 

his own mind that there was no condition more 
truly honorable and enviable than that of a country 
gentleman on his paternal lands, and therefore 
passes the whole of his time on his estate. He is 
a strenuous advocate for the revival of the old 
rural games and holiday observances, and is deeply 
read in the writers, ancient and modern, who have 
treated "on the subject. Indeed, his favorite range 
of reading is among the authors who flourished at 
least two centuries since, who, he insists, wrote and 
thought more like true Englishmen than any of 
their successors. He even regrets sometimes that 
he had not been born a few centuries earlier, when 
England was itself and had its peculiar manners 
and customs. As he lives at some distance from 
the main road, in rather a lonely part of the country, 
without any rival gentry near him, he has that most 
enviable of all blessings to an Englishman — an op- 
portunity of indulging the bent of his own huxiior 
without molestation. Being representative of the 
oldest family in the neighborhood, and a great part 
of the peasantry being his tenants, he is much 
looked up to, and in general is known simply by 
the appellation of ' The Squire ' — a title which has 
been accorded to the head of the family since time 
immemorial. I think it best to give you these 
hints about my worthy old father, to prepare you 
for any eccentricities that might otherwise appear 
absurd." 

We had passed for some time along the wall of a 
park, and at length the chaise stopped at the gate. 
It was in a heavy, magnificent old style, of iron 
bars fancifully wrought at top into flourishes and 
flowers. The huge square columns that supported 



CtlRIStMAS EVE. 1 5 

the gate were surmounted by the family crest. 
Close adjoining was the porter's lodge, sheltered 
under dark fir trees and almost buried in shrub- 
bery. 

The postboy rang a large porter's bell, which 
resounded though the still, frosty air, and was 
answered by the distant barking of dogs, with 
which the mansion-house seemed garrisoned. An 
old woman immediately appeared at the gate. As 
the moonlight fell strongly upon her, I had a full 
view of a little primitive dame, dressed very much 
in the antique taste, with a neat kerchief and 
stomacher, and her silver hair peeping from under 
a cap of snowy whiteness. She came curtseying 
forth, with many expressions of simple joy at seeing 
her young master. Her husband, it seemed, was 
up at the house keeping Christmas Eve in the 
servants' hall ; they could not do without him, as 
he was the best hand at a song and story in the 
household. 

My friend proposed that we should alight and 
walk through the park to the hall, which was at 
no great distance, while the chaise should follow 
on. Our road wound through a noble avenue of 
trees, among the naked branches of which the moon 
glittered as she rolled through the deep vault of a 
cloudless sky. The lawn beyond was sheeted with 
a slight covering of snow, which here and there 
sparkled as the moonbeams caught a frosty crystal, 
and at a distance might be seen a thin transparent 
vapor stealing up from the low grounds and threaten- 
ing gradually to shroud the landscape. 

My companion looked around him with transport. 
" How often," said he, " have I scampered up this 



1 6 OLD CHRISTMAS. 

avenue on returning home on school vacations ! 
How often have I played under these trees when a 
boy ! I feel a degree of filial reverence for them, 
as we look up to those who have cherished us in 
childhood. My father was always scrupulous in 
exacting our holidays and having us around him 
on family festivals. He used to direct and super- 
intend "our games with the strictness that some 
parents do the studies of their children. He was 
very particular that we should play the old English 
games according to their original form, and con- 
sulted old books for precedent and authority for 
every * merrie disport ; ' yet I assure you there 
never was pedantry so delightful. It was the 
policy of the good old gentleman to make his 
children feel that home was the happiest place in 
the world ; and I value this delicious home-feeling 
as one of the choicest gifts a parent could bestow." 
We were interrupted by the clamor of a troop of 
dogs of all sorts and sizes, " mongrel, puppy, whelp, 
and hound, and curs of low degree," that, disturbed 
by the ring of the porter's bell and the rattling of 
the chaise, came bounding, open-mouthed, across 
the lawn. 

" ' The little dogs and all, 

Tray, Blanch, and Sweetheart, see, they bark at me ! ' " 

cried Bracebridge, laughing. At the sound of his 
voice the bark was changed into a yelp of delight, 
and in a moment he was surrounded and almost 
overpowered by the caresses of the faithful animals. 
We had now come in full view of the old family 
mansion, partly thrown in deep shadow and partly 
lit up by the cold moonshine. It was an irregular 



CHRISTMAS EVE. 1 7 

building of some magnitude, and seemed to be of 
the architecture of different periods. One wing 
was evidently very ancient, with heavy stone- 
shafted bow windows jutting out and overrun with 
ivy, from among the foliage of which the small dia- 
mond-shaped panes of glass glittered with the 
moonbeams. The rest of the house was in the 
French taste of Charles the Second's time, having 
been repaired and altered, as my friend told me, 
by one of his ancestors who returned with that 
monarch at the Restoration. The grounds about 
the house were laid out in the old formal manner 
of artificial flower-beds, clipped shrubberies, raised 
terraces, and heavy stone balustrades, ornamented 
with urns, a leaden statue or two, and a jet of water. 
The old gentleman, I was told, was extremely care- 
ful to preserve this obsolete finery in all its original 
state. He admired this fashion in gardening; it 
had an air of magnificence, was courtly and noble, 
and befitting good old family style. The boasted 
imitation of Nature in modern gardening had sprung 
up with modern republican notions, but did not 
suit a monarchical government ; it smacked of the 
levelling system. I could not help smiling at this 
introduction of politics into gardening, though I 
expressed some apprehension that I should find 
the old gentleman rather intolerant in his creed. 
Frank assured me, however, that it was almost the 
only instance in which he had ever heard his father 
meddle with politics ; and he believed that he had 
got this notion from a member of Parliament who 
once passed a few weeks with him. The squire 
was glad of any argument to defend his clipped 
yew trees and formal terraces, which had been 



1 8 OLD CHRISTMAS. 

occasionally attacked by modern landscape gar- 
deners. 

As we approached the house we heard the sound 
of music, and now and then a burst of laughter from 
one end of the building. This, Bracebridge said, 
must proceed from the servants' hall, where a great 
deal of revelry was permitted, and even encouraged, 
by the squire throughout the twelve days of Christ- 
mas, provided everything was done conformably to 
ancient usage. Here were kept up the old games 
of hoodman blind, shoe the wild mare, hot cockles, 
steal the white loaf, bob apple, and snap dragon ; 
the Yule clog and Christmas candle were regularly 
burnt, and the mistletoe with its white berries hung 
up, to the imminent peril of all the pretty house- 
maids.* 

So intent were the servants upon their sports 
that we had to ring repeatedly before we could 
make ourselves heard. On our arrival being an- 
nounced the squire came out to receive us, accom- 
panied by his two other sons — one a young officer 
in the army, home on a leave of absence ; the other 
an Oxonian, just from the university. The squire 
was a fine healthy-looking old gentleman, with sil- 
ver hair curling lightly round an open florid coun- 
tenance, in which the physiognomist, with the ad- 
vantage, like myself, of a previous hint or two, 
might discover a singular mixture of whim and 
benevolence. 

The family meeting was warm and affectionate ; 

* The mistletoe is still hung up in farm-houses and kitchens 
at Christmas, and the young men have the privilege of kiss- 
ing the girls under it, pluckmg each time a berry from the 
bush. When the berries are all plucked the privilege ceases. 



CHRISTMAS EVE. 



19 



as the evening was far advanced, the squire would 
not permit us to change our travelling dresses, but 
ushered us at once to the company, which was as- 
sembled in a large old-fashioned hall. It was com- 
posed of different branches of a numerous family 
connection, where there were the usual proportion 
of old uncles and aunts, comfortable married dames, 
superannuated spinsters, blooming country cousins, 
half-fledged striplings, and bright-eyed boarding- 
school hoydens. They were variously occupied — 
some at a round game of cards ; others conversing 
around the fireplace ; at one end of the hall was a 
group of the young folks, some nearly grown up, 
others of a more tender and budding age, fully 
engrossed by a merry game ; and a profusion of 
wooden horses, penny trumpets, and tattered dolls 
about the floor showed traces of a troop of little 
fairy beings who, having frolicked through a happy 
day, had been carried off to slumber through a 
peaceful night. 

While the mutual greetings were going on be- 
tween young Bracebridge and his relatives I had 
time to scan the apartment. I have called it a hall, 
for so it had certainly been in old times, and the 
squire had evidently endeavored to restore it to 
something of its primitive state. Over the heavy 
projecting fireplace was suspended a picture of a 
warrior in armor, standing by a white horse, and on 
the opposite wall hung a helmet, buckler, and lance. 
At one end an enormous pair of antlers were in- 
serted in the wall, the branches serving as hooks 
on which to suspend hats, whips, and spurs, and 
in the corners of the apartment were fowling-pieces, 
fishing-rods, and other sporting implements. The 



20 OLD CHRISTMAS. 

furniture was of the cumbrous workmanship of 
former days, though some articles of modern con- 
venience had been added and tlie oaken floor had 
been carpeted, so that the whole presented an odd 
mixture of parlor and hall. 

The grate had been removed from the wide over- 
whelming fireplace to make way for a fire of wood, 
in the midst of which was an enormous log glowing 
and blazing, and sending forth a vast volume of 
light and heat : this, I understood, was the Yule 
clog, which the squire was particular in having 
brought in and illumined on a Christmas Eve, 
according to ancient custom.* 

* The Ytde clog is a great log of wood, sometimes the root 
of a tree, brought into the house with great ceremony on 
Christmas Eve, laid in the fireplace, and lighted with the 
brand of last year's clog. While it lasted there was great 
drinking, singing, and telling of tales. Sometimes it was ac- 
companied by Christmas candles ; but in the cottages the 
only light was from the ruddy blaze of the great wood fire. 
The Yule clog was to burn all night ; if it went out, it was 
considered a sign of ill luck. 

Herrick meiTtions it in one of his songs : 

Come, bring with a noise, 

My merrie, merrie boyes, 
The Christmas log to the firing , 

While my good dame, she 

Bids ye all be free, 
And drink to your hearts' desiring. 

The Yule clog is still burnt in many farm-houses and 
kitchens in England, particularly in the north, and there are 
several superstitions connected with it among the peasantry. 
If a squinting person come to the house while it is burning, 
or a person barefooted, it is considered an ill omen. The 
brand remaining from the Yule clog is carefully put away to 
light the next year's Christmas fire. 



CHRISTMAS EVE. 21 

It was really delightful to see the old squire 
seated in his hereditary elbow-chair by the hospi- 
table fireside of his ancestors, and looking around 
him like the sun of a system, beaming warmth and 
gladness to every heart. Even the very dog that 
lay stretched at his feet, as he lazily shifted his 
position and yawned would look fondly up in his 
master's face, wag his tail against the floor, and 
stretch himself again to sleep, confident of kindness 
and protection. There is an emanation from the 
heart in genuine hospitality which cannot be 
described, but is immediately felt and puts the 
stranger at once at his ease. I had not been 
seated many minutes by the comfortable hearth of 
the worthy old cavalier before I found myself as 
much at home as if I had been one of the family. 

Supper was announced shortly after our arrival. 
It was served up in a spacious oaken chamber, the 
panels of which shone with wax, and around which 
were several family portraits decorated with holly 
and ivy. Besides the accustomed lights, two great 
wax tapers, called Christmas candles, wreathed 
with greens, were placed on a highly polished 
beaufet among the family plate. The table was 
abundantly spread with substantial fare ; but the 
squire made his supper of frumenty, a dish made 
of wheat cakes boiled in milk with rich spices, be- 
ing a standing dish in old times for Christmas 
Eve. I was happy to find my old friend, minced 
pie, in the retinue of the feast ; and, finding him to 
be perfectly orthodox, and that I need not be 
ashamed of my predilection, I greeted him with all 
the warmth wherewith we usually greet an old and 
very genteel acquaintance. 



22 OLD CHRISTMAS. 

The mirth of the company was greatly promoted 
by the humors of an eccentric personage whom 
Mr. Bracebridge always addressed with the quaint 
appellation of Master Simon. He was a tight 
brisk little man, with the air of an arrant old 
bachelor. His nose was shaped like the bill of a 
pariot ; his face slightly pitted with the small-pox, 
with a dry perpetual bloom on it, like a frostbitten 
leaf in autumn. He had an eye of great quickness 
and vivacity, with a drollery and lurking waggery 
of expression that was irresistible. He was evi- 
dently the wit of the family, dealing very much in 
sly jokes and innuendoes with the ladies, and mak- 
ing infinite merriment by harping upon old themes, 
which, unfortunately, my ignorance of the family 
chronicles did not permit me to enjoy. It seemed 
to be his great delight during supper to keep a 
young girl next to him in a continual agony of 
stifled laughter, in spite of her awe of the reprov- 
mg looks of her mother, who sat opposite. In- 
deed, he was the idol of the younger part of the 
company, who laughed at everything he said or did 
and at every turn of his countenance. I could not 
wonder at it ; for he must have been a miracle of 
accomplishments in their eyes. He could imitate 
Punch and Judy ; make an old woman of his hand, 
with the assistance of a burnt cork and pocket- 
handkerchief ; and cut an orange into such a ludi- 
crous caricature that the young folks were ready to 
die with laughing. 

I was let briefly into his history by Frank Brace- 
bridge. He was an old bachelor, of a small inde- 
pendent income, which by careful management was 
sufficient for all his wants. He revolved through 



CHRISTMAS EVE. 23 

the family system like a vagrant comet in its orbit, 
sometimes visiting one branch, and sometimes an- 
other quite remote, -as is often the case with gentle- 
men of extensive connections and small fortunes in 
England. He had a chirping, buoyant disposition, 
always enjoying the present moment ; and his 
frequent change of scene and company prevented 
his acquiring those rusty, unaccommodating habits 
with which old bachelors are so uncharitably 
charged. He was a complete family chronicle, 
being versed in the genealogy, history, and inter- 
marriages of the whole house of Bracebridge, 
which made him a great favorite with the old folks ; 
he was a beau of all the elder ladies and superan- 
nuated spinsters, among whom he was habitually 
considered rather a young fellow; and he was 
master of the revels among the children, so that 
there was not a more popular being in the sphere 
in which he moved than Mr. Simon Bracebridge. 
Of late years he had resided almost entirely with 
the squire, to whom he had become a factotum, 
and whom he particularly delighted by jumping 
with his humor in respect to old times and by hav- 
ing a scrap of an old song to suit every occasion. 
We had presently a specimen of his last-mentioned 
talent, for no sooner was supper removed and 
spiced wines and other beverages peculiar to the 
season introduced, than Master Simon was called 
on for a good old Christmas song. He bethought 
himself for a moment, and then, with a sparkle of 
the eye and a voice that was by no means bad, 
excepting that it ran occasionally into a falsetto 
like the notes of a split reed, he quavered forth a 
quaint old ditty : 



24 OLD CHRISTMAS. 

Now Christmas is come, 

Let us beat up tlie drum, 
And call all our neighbors together, 

And when they appear, 

Let us make them such cheer, 
As will keep out the wind and the weather, etc. 

The supper had disposed every one to gayety, 
and an old harper was summoned from the 
servants' hall, where he had been strumming all 
the evening, and to all appearance comforting him- 
self with some of the squire's home-brewed. He 
was a kind of hanger-on, I was told, of the establish- 
ment, and, though ostensibly a resident of the 
village, was oftener to be found in the squire's 
kitchen than his own home, the old gentleman 
being fond of the sound of " harp in hall." 

The dance, like most dances after supper, was a 
merry one : some of the older folks joined in it, 
and the squire himself figured down several couple 
with a partner with whom he affirmed he had 
danced at every Christmas for nearly half a century. 
Master Simon, who seemed to be a kind of con- 
necting link between the old times and the new, 
and to be withal a little antiquated in the taste of 
his accomplishments, evidently piqued himself on 
his dancing, and was endeavoring to gain credit by 
the heel and toe, rigadoon, and other graces of the 
ancient school ; but he had unluckily assorted him- 
self with a little romping girl from boarding-school, 
who by her wild vivacity kept him continually on 
the stretch and defeated all his sober attempts at 
elegance : such are the ill-sorted matches to which 
antique gentlemen are unfortunately prone. 

The young Oxonian, on the contrary, had led 



CHRISTMAS EVE. ^5 

out one of his maiden aunts, on whom the ro2:ue 
played a thousand little knaveries with impunity : 
he was full of practical jokes, and his delight was 
to tease his aunts and cousins, yet, like all madcap 
youngsters, he was a universal favorite among the 
women. The most interesting couple in the dance 
was the young officer and a ward of the squire's, a 
beautiful blushing girl of seventeen. From several 
shy glances which 1 had noticed in the course of 
the evening I suspected there was a little kindness 
growing up between them ; and indeed the young 
soldier was just the hero to captivate a romantic 
girl. He was tall, slender, and handsome, and, 
like most young British officers of late years, had 
picked up various small accomplishments on the 
Continent : he could talk French and Italian, draw 
landscapes, sing very tolerably, dance divinely; 
but, above all, he had been wounded at Waterloo. 
What girl of seventeen, well read in poetry and 
romance, could resist such a mirror of chivalry and 
perfection ? 

The moment the dance was over he caught up a 
guitar, and, lolling against the old marble fireplace 
in an attitude which I am half inclined to sus- 
pect was studied, began the little French air of 
the Troubadour. The squire, however, exclaimed 
against having anything on Christmas Eve but 
good old English ; upon which the young minstrel, 
casting up his eye for a moment as if in an effort of 
memory, struck into another strain, and with a 
charming air of gallantry gave Herrick's " Night- 
Piece to Julia : " 

Her eyes the glow-worm lend thee, 
The shooting stars attend thee, 



2f) OLD CHRISTMAS. 

And the elves also, 
Whose little eyes glow 
Like the sparks of fire, befriend thee. 

No Will o' the Wisp mislight thee ; 
Nor snake nor slow-worm bite thee ; 

But on thy way, 

Not making a stay, 
Since ghost there is none to affright thee. 

Then let not the dark thee cumber ; 
What though the moon does slumber^ 

The stars of the night 

Will lend thee their light, 
Like tapers clear without number. 

Then, Julia, let me woo thee, 
Thus, thus to come unto me, 

And when I shall meet 

Thy silvery feet. 
My soul I'll pour into thee. 

The song might or might not have been intended 
in compliment to the fair Julia, for so I found his 
partner was called ; she, however, was certainly 
unconscious of any such application, for she never 
looked at the singer, but kept her eyes cast upon 
the floor. Her face vi^as suffused, it is true, with a 
beautiful blush, and there was a gentle heaving of 
the bosom, but all that was doubtless caused by 
the exercise of the dance ; indeed, so great was her 
indifference that she amused herself with plucking 
to pieces a choice bouquet of hot-house flowers, 
and by the time the song was concluded the nose- 
gay lay in ruins on the floor. 

The party now broke up for the night with the 
kind-hearted old custom of shaking hands. As I 
passed through the hall on my way to my chamber, 



CHRISTMAS EVE. 2^ 

the dying embers of the Yule clog still sent forth a 
dusky glow, and had it not been the season when 
" no spirit dares stir abroad," I should have been 
half tempted to steal from my room at midnight and 
peep whether the fairies might not be at their revels 
about the hearth. 

My chamber was in the old part of the mansion, 
the ponderous furniture of which might have been 
fabricated in the days of the giants. The room 
was panelled, with cornices of heavy carved work, 
in which flowers and grotesque faces were strangely 
intermingled, and a row of black-looking portraits 
stared mournfully at me from the walls. The bed 
was of rich though faded damask, with a lofty tester, 
and stood in a niche opposite a bow window. I had 
scarcely got into bed when a strain of music seemed 
to break forth in the air just below the window. I 
listened, and found it proceeded from a band which 
I concluded to be the Waits from some neighboring 
village. They went round the house, playing under 
the windows. I drew aside the curtains to hear 
them more distinctly. The moonbeams fell through 
the upper part of the casement ; partially lighting 
up the antiquated apartment. The sounds, as they 
receded, became more soft and aerial, and seemed 
to accord with the quiet and moonlight. I listened 
and listened — they became more and more tender 
and remote, and, as they gradually died away, my 
head sunk upon the pillow and I fell asleep. 



CHRISTMAS DAY. 

Dark and dull night, flie hence away. 
And give the honor to this day 
That sees December turn'd to May. 

* * * * 

Why does the chilling winter's morne 
Smile like a field beset with corn ? 
Or smell like to a meade new-shorne, 
Thus on the sudden? — Come and see 
The cause why things thus fragrant be. 

Herrick. 

When I woke the next morning it seemed as if 
all the events of the preceding evening had been a 
dream, and nothing but the identity of the ancient 
chamber convinced me of their reality. While I 
lay musing on my pillow I heard the sound of little 
feet pattering outside of the door, and a whispering 
consultation. Presently a choir of small voices 
chanted forth an old Christmas carol, the burden 
of which was — 

Rejoice, our Saviour he was born 
On Christmas Day in the morning. 

I rose softly, slipt on my clothes, opened the 
door suddenly, and beheld one of the most beau- 
tiful little fairy groups that a painter could imagine. 
It consisted of a boy and two girls, the eldest not 
more than six, and lovely as seraphs. They were 
going the rounds of the house and singing at every 
chamber door, but my sudden appearance fright- 
28 



CHRISTMAS DAY. 29 

ened them into mute bashfulness. They remained 
for a moment playing on their lips with their 
fingers, and now and then stealing a shy glance 
from under their eyebrows, until, as if by one im- 
pulse, they scampered away, and as they turned 
an angle of the gallery I heard them laughing 
in triumph at their escape. 

Everything conspired to produce kind and happy 
feelings in this stronghold of old-fashioned hos- 
pitality. The window of my chamber looked out 
upon what in summer would have been a beautiful 
landscape. There was a sloping lawn, a fine 
stream winding at the foot of it, and a tract of park 
beyond, with noble clumps of trees and herds of 
deer. At a distance was a neat hamlet, with the 
smoke from the cottage chimneys hanging over it, 
and a church with its dark spire in strong relief 
against the clear cold sky. The house was sur- 
rounded with evergreens, according to the English 
custom, which would have given almost an appear- 
ance of summer ; but the morning was extremely 
frosty ; the light vapor of the preceding evening had 
been precipitated by the cold, and covered all the 
trees and every blade of grass with its fine crystal- 
izations. The rays of a bright morning sun had a 
dazzling effect among the glittering foliage. A 
robin, perched upon the top of a mountain-ash 
that hung its clusters of red berries just before my 
window, was basking himself in the sunshine and 
piping a few querulous notes, and a peacock was 
displaying all the glories of his train and strutting 
with the pride and gravity of a Spanish grandee 
on the terrace walk below. 

I had scarcely dressed myself when a servant 



so OLD CHRISTMAS. 

appeared to invite me to family prayers. He 
showed me the way to a small chapel in the old 
wing of the house, where I found the principal 
part of the family already assembled in a kind of 
gallery furnished with cushions, hassocks, and large 
prayer-books ; the servants were seated on benches 
below. The old gentleman read prayers from a 
desk in front of the gallery, and Master Simon 
acted as clerk and made the responses ; and I must 
do him the justice to say that he acquitted himself 
with great gravity and decorum. 

The service was followed by a Christmas carol, 
which Mr. Bracebridge himself had constructed 
from a poem of his favorite author, Herrick, and it 
had been adapted to an old church melody by 
Master Simon. As there were several good voices 
among the household, the effect was extremely 
pleasing, but I was particularly gratified by the 
exaltation of heart and sudden sally of grateful 
feeling with which the worthy squire delivered one 
stanza, his eye glistening and his voice rambling 
out of all the bounds of time and tune : 

" 'Tis Thou that crown' st my glittering hearth 

With guiltlesse mirth, 
And givest me Wassaile bowles to drink 

Spiced to the brink ; 
Lord, 'tis Thy plenty-dropping hand 

That soiles my land : 
And giv'st me for my bushell sowne, 

Twice ten for one." 

I afterwards understood that early morning 
service was read on every Sunday and saint's day 
throughout the year, either by Mr. Bracebridge or 
by some member of the family. It was once almost 



CHRISTMAS DAY. 3 1 

universally the case at the seats of the nobility and 
gentry of England, and it is much to be regretted 
that the custom is falling into neglect ; for the 
dullest observer must be sensible of the order and 
serenity prevalent in those households where the 
occasional exercise of a beautiful form of worship 
in the morning gives, as it were, the keynote to 
every temper for the day and attunes every spirit 
to harmony. 

Our breakfast consisted of what the squire de- 
nominated true old EngUsh fare. He indulged in 
some bitter lamentations over modern breakfasts 
of tea and toast, which he censured as among the 
causes of modern effeminacy and weak nerves and 
the decline of old English heartiness ; and, though 
he admitted them to his table to suit the palates of 
his guests, yet there was a brave display of cold 
meats, wine, and ale on the sideboard. 

After breakfast I walked about the grounds with 
Frank Bracebridge and Master Simon, or Mr. 
Simon, as he was called by everybody but the 
squire. We were escorted by a number of gentle- 
manlike dogs, that seemed loungers about the 
establishment, from the frisking spaniel to the 
steady old stag-hound, the last of which was of a 
race that had been in the family time out of mind ; 
they were all obedient to a dog-whistle which hung 
to Master Simon's buttonhole, and in the midst of 
their gambols would glance an eye occasionally 
upon a small switch he carried in his hand. 

The old mansion had a still more venerable look 
in the yellow sunshine than by pale moonlight ; 
and I could not but feel the force of the squire's 
idea that the formal terraces, heavily moulded 



32 OLD CHRISTMAS. 

balustrades, and clipped yew trees carried with 
them an air of proud aristocracy. There appeared 
to be an unusual number of peacocks about the 
place, and I was making some remarks upon what 
I termed a flock of them that were basking under 
a sunny wall, when I was gently corrected in my 
phraseology by Master Simon, who told me that 
according to the most ancient and approved treatise 
on hunting I must say a muster of peacocks. " In 
the same way," added he, with a slight air of 
pedantry, " we say a flight of doves or swallows, a 
bevy of quails, a herd of deer, of wrens, or cranes, 
a skulk of foxes, or a building of rooks." He went 
on to inform me that, according to Sir Anthony 
Fitzherbert, we ought to ascribe to this bird " both 
understanding and glory; for, being praised, he 
will presently set up his tail, chiefly against the sun, 
to the intent you may the better behold the beauty 
thereof. But at the fall of the leaf, when his tail 
falleth, he will mourn and hide himself in corners 
till his tail come again as it was." 

I could not help smiling at this display of small 
erudition on so whimsical a subject ; but I found 
that the peacocks were birds of some consequence 
at the hall, for Frank Bracebridge informed me that 
they were great favorites with his father, who was 
extremely careful to keep up the breed ; partly 
because they belonged to chivalry, and were in 
great request at the stately banquets of the olden 
time, and partly because they had a pomp and 
magnificence about them highly becom.ing an old 
family mansion. Nothing, he was accustomed to 
say, had an air of greater state and dignity than a 
peacock perched upon an antique stone balustrade. 



CHRISTMAS DAY. 33 

Master Simon had now to hurry off, having an 
appointment at the parish church with the village 
choristers, who were to perform some music of his 
selection. There was something extremely agree- 
able in the cheerful flow of animal spirits of the 
little man ; and I confess I had been somewhat 
surprised at his apt quotations from authors who 
certainly were not in the range of every-day read- 
ing. I mentioned this last circumstance to Frank 
Bracebridge, who told me with a smile that Master 
Simon's whole stock of erudition was confined to 
some half a dozen old authors, which the squire 
had put into his hands, and which he read over and 
over whenever he had a studious fit, as he some- 
times had on a rainy day or a long winter evening. 
Sir Anthony Fitzherbert's Book of Husbandry, 
Markham's Country ContentmeJtts, the Tretyse of 
Hunting, by Sir Thomas Cockayne, Knight, Isaac 
Walton's Angler, and two or three more such ancient 
worthies of the pen were his standard authorities ; 
and, like all men who know but a few books, he 
looked up to them with a kind of idolatry and 
quoted them on all occasions. As to his songs, 
they were chiefly picked out of old books in the 
squire's library, and adapted to tunes that were 
popular among the choice spirits of the last cen- 
tury. His practical application of scraps of litera- 
ture, however, had caused him to be looked upon 
as a prodigy of book-knowledge by all the grooms, 
huntsmen, and small sportsmen of the neighbor- 
hood. 

While we were talking we heard the distant toll 
of the village bell, and I was told that the squire 
was a little particular in having his household at 



34 OLD CHRISTMAS. 

church on a Christmas morning, considering it a 
day of pouring out of thanks and rejoicing ; for, 
as old Tusser observed, 

" At Christmas be merry, and thankful withal, 
And feast thy poor neighbors, the great with the small.'* 

" If you are disposed to go to church," said 
Frank Bracebridge, " I can promise you a specimen 
of my cousin Simon's musical achievements. As 
the church is destitute of an organ, he has formed 
a band from the village amateurs, and established 
a musical club for their improvement ; he has also 
sorted a choir, as he sorted my father's pack of 
hounds, according to the directions of Jervaise 
Markham in his Country Contenimenis : for the bass 
he has sought out all the ' deep, solemn mouths,* 
and for the tenor the ' loud-ringing mouths,' among 
the country bumpkins, and for ' sweet-mouths,' he 
has culled with curious taste among the prettiest 
lasses in the neighborhood ; though these last, he 
affirms, are the most difficult to keep in tune, your 
pretty female singer being exceedingly wayward 
and capricious, and very liable to accident." 

As the morning, though frosty, was remarkably 
fine and clear, the most of the family walked to the 
church, which was a very old building of gray stone, 
and stood near a village about half a mile from the 
park gate. Adjoining it was a low snug parsonage 
which seemed coeval with the church. The front 
of it was perfectly matted with a yew tree that had 
been trained against its walls, through the dense 
foliage of which apertures had been formed to 
admit light into the small antique lattices. As we 



CHRISTMAS DAY. 35 

passed this sheltered nest the parson issued forth 
and preceded us. 

I had expected to see a sleek well-conditioned 
pastor, such as is often found in a snug living in 
the vicinity of a rich patron's table, but I was dis- 
appointed. The parson was a little, meagre, black- 
looking man, with a grizzled wig that was too wide 
and stood off from each ear ; so that his head 
seemed to have shrunk away within it, like a dried 
filbert in its shell. He wore a rusty coat, with 
great skirts and pockets that would have held the 
church Bible and prayer-book : and his small legs 
seemed still smaller from being planted in large 
shoes decorated with enormous buckles. 

I was informed by Frank Bracebridge that the 
parson had been a chum of his father's at Oxford, 
and had received this living shortly after the latter 
had come to his estate. He was a complete black- 
letter hunter, and would scarcely read a work 
printed in the Roman character. The editions of 
Caxton and Wynkyn de Worde were his delight, 
and he was indefatigable in his researches after 
such old English writers as have fallen into oblivion 
from their worthlessness. In deference, perhaps, 
to the notions of Mr. Bracebridge he had made 
diligent investigations into the festive rites and 
holiday customs of former times, and had been as 
zealous in the inquiry as if he had been a boon 
companion ; but it was merely with that plodding 
spirit with which men of adust temperament follow 
up any track of study, merely because it is denom- 
inated learning ; indifferent to its intrinsic nature, 
whether it be the illustration of the wisdom or of 
the ribaldry and obscenity of antiquity. He had 



$6 OLD CHRISTMAS. 

pored over these old volumes so intensely that they 
seemed to have been reflected into his countenance ; 
which, if the face be indeed an index of the mind, 
might be compared to a title-page of black-letter. 

On reaching the church-porch we found the 
parson rebuking the gray-headed sexton for having 
used mistletoe among the greens with which the 
church was decorated. It was, he observed, an 
unholy plant, profaned by having been used by the 
Druids in their mystic ceremonies ; and, though it 
might be innocently employed in the festive orna- 
menting of halls and kitchens, yet it had been 
deemed by the Fathers of the Church as unhallowed 
and totally unfit for sacred purposes. So tenacious 
was he on this point that the poor sexton was 
obliged to strip down a great part of the humble 
trophies of his taste before the parson would con- 
sent to enter upon the service of the day. 

The interior of the church was venerable, but 
simple ; on the walls were several mural monu- 
ments of the Bracebridges, and just beside the 
altar was a tomb of ancient workmanship, on which 
lay the effigy of a warrior in armor with his legs 
crossed, a sign of his having been a crusader. I 
was told it was one of the family who had signalized 
himself in the Holy Land, and the same whose 
picture hung over the fireplace in the hall. 

During service Master Simon stood up in the 
pew and repeated the responses very audibly, 
evincing that kind of ceremonious devotion punc- 
tually observed by a gentleman of the old school 
and a man of old family connections. I observed 
too that he turned over the leaves of a folio 
prayer-book with something of a flourish ; possibly 



CHRISTMAS DAY. 37 

to show off an enormous seal-ring which enriched 
one of his fingers and which had the loolc of a family 
relic. But he was evidently most solicitous about 
the musical part of the service, keeping his e3'e 
fixed intently on the choir, and beating time with 
much gesticulation and emphasis. 

The orchestra was in a small gallery, and pre- 
sented a most whimsical grouping of heads piled 
one above the other, among which I particularly 
noticed that of the village tailor, a pale fellow with 
a retreating forehead and chin, who played on the 
clarinet, and seemed to have blown his face to a 
point; and there was another, a short pursy man, 
stooping and laboring at a bass-viol, so as to show 
nothing but the top of a round bald head, like the 
egg of an ostrich. There were two or three pretty 
faces among the female singers, to which the keen 
air of a frosty morning had given a bright rosy tint ; 
but the gentlemen choristers had evidently been 
chosen, like old Cremona fiddles, more for tone 
than looks ; and as several had to sing from the 
same book, there were clusterings of odd physiog- 
nomies not unlike those groups of cherubs we 
sometimes see on country tombstones. 

The usual services of the choir were managed 
tolerably well, the vocal parts generally lagging a 
little behind the instrumental, and some loitering 
fiddler now and then making up for lost time by 
travelling over a passage with prodigious celerity 
and clearing more bars than the keenest fox-hunter 
to be in at the death. But the great trial was an 
anthem that had been prepared and arranged by 
Master Simon, and on which he had founded great 
expectation. Unluckily, there was a blunder at 



38 OLD CHRISTMAS. 

the very outset : the musicians became flurried ; 
Master Simon was in a fever ; everything went on 
lamely and irregularly until they came to a chorus 
beginning, " Now let us sing with one accord," 
which seemed to be a signal for parting company : 
all became discord and confusion : each shifted 
for himself, and got to the end as well — or, rather, 
as soon — as he could, excepting one old chorister 
in a pair of horn spectacles bestriding and pinching 
a long sonorous nose, who happened to stand a 
little apart, and, being wrapped up in his own 
melody, kept on a quavering course, wriggling his 
head, ogling his book, and winding all up by a 
nasal solo of at least three bars' duration. 

The parson gave us a most erudite sermon on 
the rites and ceremonies of Christmas, and the 
propriety of observing it not merely as a day of 
thanksgiving but of rejoicing, "supporting the 
correctness of his opinions by the earliest usages 
of the Church, and enforcing them by the authori- 
ties of Theophilus of Caesarea, St. Cyprian, St. 
Chrysostom, St. Augustine, and a cloud more of 
saints and fathers, from whom he made copious 
quotations. I was a little at a loss to perceive the 
necessity of such a mighty array of forces to main- 
tain a point which no one present seemed inclined 
to dispute ; but I soon found that the good man 
had a legion of ideal adversaries to contend with, 
having in the course of his researches on the subject 
of Christmas got completely embroiled in the 
sectarian controversies of the Revolution, when the 
Puritans made such a fierce assault upon the 
ceremonies of the Church, and poor old Christ- 
mas was driven out of the land by proclamation 



CHRISTMAS DAY. 39 

of Parliament.* The worthy parson lived but 
with times past, and knew but little of the pres- 
ent. 

Shut up among worm-eaten tomes in the retire- 
ment of his antiquated little study, the pages of old 
times were to him as the gazettes of the day, while 
the era of the Revolution was mere modern history. 
He forgot that nearly two centuries had elapsed 
since the fiery persecution of poor mince-pie through- 
out the land ; when plum porridge was denounced as 
" mere popery," and roast beef as anti-christian, and 
that Christmas had been brought in again triumph- 
antly with the merry court of King Charles at the 
Restoration. He kindled into warmth with the 
ardor of his contest and the host of imaginary foes 
with whom he had to combat; he had a stubborn 
conflict with old Prynne and two or three other for- 
gotten champions of the Round Heads on the subject 
of Christmas festivity ; and concluded by urging his 
hearers, in the most solemn and affecting manner, 
to stand to the traditional customs of their fathers 



*From the /7j//;/^ ^^^/^, a small gazette, published De- 
cember 24, 1652 : " The House spent much time this day 
about the business of the Navy, for settling the affairs at sea, 
and before they rose, were presented with a terrible remon- 
strance against Christmas day, grounded upon divine Scrip- 
tures, 2 Cor. V. 16; I Cor. xv. 14, 17; and in honor of the 
Lord's Day, grounded upon these Scriptures, John xx. i ; 
Rev. i. ID ; Psalms cxviii. 24 ; Lev. xxiii. 7,11; Mark xv. 8 ; 
Psalms Ixxxiv. 10, in which Christmas is called Anti-christ's 
masse, and those Masse-mongers and Papists who observe it, 
etc. In consequence of which parliament spent some time 
in consultation about the abolition of Christmas day, passed 
orders to that effect, and resolved to sit on the following day, 
which was commonly called Christmas day." 



4d OLD CHRISTMAS. 

and feast and make merry on this joyful anniver- 
sary of the Church. 

I have seldom known a sermon attended appar- 
ently with more immediate effects, for on leaving 
the church the congregation seemed one and all 
possessed with the gayety of spirit so earnestly en- 
joined by their pastor. The elder folks gathered 
in knots in the churchyard, greeting and shaking 
hands, and the children ran about crying Ule ! 
Ule ! and repeating some uncouth rhymes,^ which 
the parson, who had joined us, informed me had 
been handed down from days of yore. The vil- 
lagers doffed their hats to the squire as he passed, 
giving him the good wishes of the season with 
every appearance of heartfelt sincerity, and were 
invited by him to the hall to take something to 
keep out the cold of the weather; and I heard 
blessings uttered by several of the poor, which 
convinced me that, in the midst of his enjoyments, 
the worthy old cavalier had not forgotten the true 
Christmas virtue of charity. 

On our way homeward his heart seemed over- 
flowed with generous and happy feelings. As we 
passed over a rising ground which commanded 
something of a prospect, the sounds of rustic mer- 
riment now and then reached our ears : the squire 
paused for a few moments and looked around with 
an air of inexpressible benignity. The beauty of 
the day was of itself sufficient to inspire philan- 
thropy. Notwithstanding the frostiness of the 



*"Ule! Ule! 

Three puddings in a pule; 
Craek nuts and cry ule 1 " 



CHRISTMAS DAY. 41 

morning the sun in his cloudless journey had ac- 
quired sufficient power to melt away the thin cover- 
ing of snow from every southern declivity, and to 
bring out the living green which adorns an English 
landscape even in mid-winter. Large tracts of smil- 
ing verdure contrasted with the dazzling whiteness 
of the shaded slopes and hollows. Every sheltered 
bank on which the broad rays rested yielded its 
silver rill of cold and limpid water, glittering 
through the dripping grass, and sent up slight ex- 
halations to contribute to the thin haze that hung 
just above the surface of the earth. There was 
something truly cheering in this triumph of warmth 
and verdure over the frosty thraldom of winter ; it 
was, as the squire observed, an emblem of Christ- 
mas hospitality breaking through the chills of cere- 
mony and selfishness and thawing every. heart into 
a flow. He pointed with pleasure to the indica- 
tions of good cheer reeking from the chimneys of 
the comfortable farm-houses and low thatched cot- 
tages. " I love," said he, " to see this day well 
kept by rich and poor ; it is a great thing to have 
one day in the year, at least, when you are sure of 
being welcome wherever you go, and of having, 
as it were, the world all thrown open to you ; and I 
am almost disposed to join with Poor Robin in his 
malediction on every churlish enemy to this honest 
festival : 

" ' Those who at Christmas do repine, 
And would fain hence dispatch him, 
May they with old Duke Humphry dine, 
Or else may Squire Ketch catch 'em.' " 

The squire went on to lament the deplorable 
decay of the games and amusements which were 



42 OLD CHRISTMAS. 

once prevalent at this season among the lower 
orders and countenanced by the higher, when the 
old halls of castles and manor-houses were thrown 
open at daylight ; when the tables were covered 
with brawn and beef and humming ale ; when the 
harp and the carol resounded all day long ; and 
when rich and poor were alike welcome to enter 
and make merry.* " Our old games and local cus- 
toms," said he, " had a great effect in making the 
peasant fond of his home, and the promotion of 
them by the gentry made him fond of his lord. 
They made the times merrier and kinder and better, 
and I can truly say, with one of our old poets, 

" ' I like them well : the curious preciseness 
And all-pretended gravity of those 
That seek to banish hence these harmless sports, 
Have thrust away much ancient honesty.' " 

" The nation," continued he, " is altered ; we 
have almost lost our simple true-hearted peasantry. 
They have broken asunder from the higher classes, 
and seem to think their interests are separate. 
They have become too knowing, and begin to read 
newspapers, listen to ale-house politicians, and talk 
of reform. I think one mode to keep them in good- 
humor in these hard times would be for the nobility 

* " An English gentleman, at the opening of the great day 
— i. e. on Christmas Day in the morning — had all his tenants 
and neighbors enter his hall by daybreak. The strong beer 
was broached, and the black-jacks went plentifully about, 
with toast, sugar and nutmeg, and good Cheshire cheese. 
The Hackin (the great sausage) must be boiled by daybreak, 
or else two young men must take the maiden (i. e. the cook) 
by the arms and run her round the market-place till she is 
shamed of her laziness." — Roimd about our Sea-Coal Fire. 



CHRISTMAS DAY. 43 

and gentry to pass more time on their estates, 
mingle more among the country-people, and set the 
merry old English games going again." 

Such was the good squire's project for mitigating 
public discontent : and, indeed, he had once at- 
tempted to put his doctrine in practice, and a few 
years before had kept open house during the holi- 
days in the old style. The country-people, how- 
ever, did not understand how to play their parts in 
the scene of hospitality ; many uncouth circum- 
stances occurred ; the manor was overrun by all 
the vagrants of the country, and more beggars 
drawn into the neighborhood in one week than 
the parish officers could get rid of in a year. Since 
then he had contented himself with inviting the 
decent part of the neighboring peasantry to call at 
the hall on Christmas Day, and with distributing 
beef, and bread, and ale among the poor, that they 
might make merry in their own dwellings. 

We had not been long home when the sound of 
music was heard from a distance. A band of 
country lads, without coats, their shirt-sleeves fan- 
cifully tied with ribbons, their hats decorated with 
greens, and clubs in their hands, was seen advanc- 
ing up the avenue, followed by a large number of 
villagers and peasantry. They stopped before the 
hall door, where the music struck up a peculiar 
air, and the lads performed a curious and intricate 
dance, advancing, retreating, and striking their clubs 
together, keeping exact time to the music ; while 
one, whimsically crowned with a fox's skin, the tail 
of which flaunted down his back, kept capering 
round the skirts of the dance and rattling a Christ- 
mas box with many antic gesticulations. 



44' OLD CHRISTMAS. 

The squire eyed this fanciful exhibition with 
great interest and delight, and gave me a full ac- 
count of its origin, which he traced to the times 
when the Romans held possession of the island, 
plainly proving that this was a lineal descendant 
of the sword dance of the ancients. " It was now," 
he said, " nearly extinct, but he had accidentally 
met with traces of it in the neighborhood, and had 
encouraged its revival ; though, to tell the truth, it 
was too apt to be followed up by the rough cudgel 
play and broken heads in the evening." 

After the dance was concluded the whole party 
was entertained with brawn and beef and stout 
home-brewed. The squire himself mingled among 
'the rustics, and was received with awkward demon- 
strations of deference and regard. It is true I per- 
ceived two or three of the younger peasants, as 
they were raising their tankards to their mouths, 
when the squire's back was turned making some- 
thing of a grimace, and giving each other the wink ; 
but the moment they caught my eye they pulled 
grave faces and were exceedingly demure. With 
Master Simon, however, they all seemed more at 
their ease. His varied occupations and amuse- 
ments had made him well known, throughout the 
neighborhood. He was a visitor at every farm- 
house and cottage, gossiped with the farmers and 
their wives, romped with their daughters, and, like 
that type of a vagrant bachelor, the bumblebee, 
tolled the sweets from all the rosy lips of the 
country round. 

The bashfulness of the guests soon gave way 
before good cheer and affability. There is some- 
thing genuine and affectionate in the gayety of the 



CHRISTMAS DAY. 45 

lower orders when it is excited by the bounty and 
familiarity of those above them , the warm glow of 
gratitude enters into their mirth, and a kind word 
or small pleasantry frankly uttered by a patron 
gladdens the heart of the dependant more than oil 
and wine. When the squire had retired the merri- 
ment increased, and there was much joking and 
laughter, particularly between Master Simon and 
a hale, ruddy-faced, white-headed farmer who ap- 
peared to be the wit of the village ; for I observed 
all his companions to wait with open mouths for 
his retorts, and burst into a gratuitous laugh before 
they could well understand them. 

The whole house indeed seemed abandoned to 
merriment : as I passed to my room to dress for 
dinner, I heard the sound of music in a small 
court, and, looking through a window that com- 
manded it, I perceived a band of wandering musi- 
cians with pandean pipes and tambourine ; a pretty 
coquettish housemaid was dancing a jig with a 
smart country lad, while several of the other serv- 
ants were looking on. In the midst of her sport 
the girl caught a glimpse of my face at the window, 
and, coloring up, ran off with an air of roguish 
affected confusion. 



THE CHRISTMAS DINNER. 

Lo, now is come our joyful'st feast ! 

Let every man be jolly. 
Eache roome with yvie leaves is drest. 

And every post with holly. 
Now all our neighbors' chimneys smoke, 

And Christmas blocks are burning ; 
Their ovens they with bak't meats choke 
And all their spits are turning. 
Without the door let sorrow lie, 
And if, for cold, it hap to die, 
Wee'le bury 't in a Christmas pye, 
And evermore be merry. 

Withers' Juvenilia. 

I HAD finished my toilet, and was loitering with 
Frank Bracebridge in the library, when we heard a 
distant thwacking sound, which he informed me 
was a signal for the serving up of the dinner. The 
squire kept up old customs in kitchen as well as 
hall, and the rolling-pin, struck upon the dresser 
by the cook, summoned the servants to carry in the 
meats. 

Just in this nick the cook knock'd thrice 
And all the waiters in a trice 

His summons did obey ; 
Each serving-man, with dish in hand, 
March'd boldly up, like our train-band, 

Presented and away. 

The dinner was served up in the great hall, where 
the squire always held his Christmas banquet. A 



46 



THE CHRISTMAS DINNER. 47 

blazing crackling fire of logs had been heaped on 
to warm the spacious apartment, and the flame went 
sparkling and wreathing up the wide-mouthed chim- 
ney. The great picture of the crusader and his 
white horse had been profusely decorated with 
greens for the occasion, and holly and ivy had like- 
wise been wreathed round the helmet and weapons 
on the opposite wall, which I understood were the 
arms of the same warrior. I must own, by the by, 
I had strong doubts about the authenticity of the 
painting and armor as having belonged to the 
crusader, they certainly having the stamp of more 
recent days; but I was told that the painting had 
been so considered time out of mind ; and that as 
to the armor, it had been found in a lumber-room 
and elevated to its present situation by the squire, 
who at once determined it to be the armor of the 
family hero ; and as he was absolute authority on 
all such subjects in his own household, the matter 
had passed into current acceptation. A sideboard 
was set out just under this chivalric trophy, on 
which was a display of plate that might have vied 
(at least in variety) with Belshazzar's parade of the 
vessels of the temple : " flagons, cans, cups, beakers, 
goblets, basins, and ewers," the gorgeous utensils 
of good companionship that had gradually accum- 
ulated through many generations of jovial house- 
keepers. Before these stood the two Yule candles, 
beaming like two stars of the first magnitude ; other 
lights were distributed in branches, and the whole 
array glittered like a firmament of silver. 

We were ushered into this banqueting scene with 
the sound of minstrelsy, the old harper being seated 
on a stool beside the fireplace and twanging his 



48 OLD CHRISTMAS. 

instrument with a vast deal more power than mel- 
ody. Never did Christmas board display a more 
goodly and gracious assemblage of countenances ; 
those who were not handsome were at least happy, 
and happiness is a rare improver of your hard- 
favored visage. I always consider an old English 
family as well worth studying as a collection of 
Holbein's portraits or Albert Diirer's prints. There 
is much antiquarian lore to be acquired, much 
knowledge of the physiognomies of former times. 
Perhaps it may be from having continually before 
their eyes those rows of old family portraits, with 
which the mansions of this country are stocked ; 
certain it is that the quaint features of antiquity 
are often most faithfully perpetuated in these ancient 
lines, and I have traced an old family nose through 
a whole picture-gallery, legitimately handed down 
from generation to generation almost from the time 
of the Conquest. Something of the kind was to be 
observed in the worthy company around me. Many 
of their faces had evidently originated in a Gothic 
age, and been merely copied by succeeding gen- 
erations ; and there was one little girl in particular, 
of staid demeanor, with a high Roman nose and an 
antique vinegar aspect, who was a great favorite of 
the squire's, being, as he said, a Bracebridge all 
over, and the very counterpart of one of his ances- 
tors who figured in the court of Henry VHI. 

The parson said grace, which was not a short 
familiar one, such as is commonly addressed to the 
Deity in these unceremonious days, but a long, 
courtly, well-worded one of the ancient school. 
There was now a pause, as if something was ex- 
pected, when suddenly the butler entered the hall 



TH£ CHRISTMAS DINNER. 49 

with some degree of bustle : he was attended by a 
servant on each side with a large wax-light, and bore 
a silver dish on which was an enormous pig's head 
decorated with rosemary, with a lemon in its mouth, 
which was placed with great formality at the head 
of the table. The moment this pageant made its 
appearance the harper struck up a flourish ; at the 
conclusion of which the young Oxonian, on receiv- 
ing a hint from the squire, gave, with an air of the 
most comic gravity, an old carol, the first verse of 
which was as follows : 

Caput apri defero 

Reddens laudes Domino. 
The boar's head m hand bring I, 
With gailands gay and rosemary. 
I pray you all synge merily 

Qui estis in convivio. 

Though prepared to witness many of these little 
eccentricities, from being apprised of the peculiar 
hobby of mine host, yet I confess the parade with 
which so odd a dish was introduced somewhat per- 
plexed me, until I gathered from the conversation 
of the squire and the parson that it was meant to 
represent the bringing in of the boar's head, a dish 
formerly served up with much ceremony and the 
sound of minstrelsy and song at great tables on 
Christmas Day. " I hke the old custom," said the 
squire, " not merely because it is- stately and pleas- 
ing in itself, but because it was observed at the col- 
lege at Oxford at which I was educated. When I 
hear the old song chanted it brings to mind the time 
when I was young and gamesome, and the noble 
old college hall, and my fellow-students loitering 



5© OLD CHRISTMAS. 

about in their black gowns ; many of whom, poor 
lads ! are now in their graves." 

The parson, however, whose mind was not 
haunted by such associations, and who was always 
more taken up with the text than the sentiment, 
objected to the Oxonian's version of the carol, v/hich 
he affirmed was different from that sung at college. 
He went on, with the dry perseverance of a com- 
mentator, to give the college reading, accompanied 
by sundry annotations, addressing himself at first 
to the company at large ; but, finding their atten- 
tion gradually diverted to other talk and other ob- 
jects, he lowered his tone as his number of auditors 
diminished, until he concluded his remarks in an 
under voice to a fat-headed old gentleman next him 
who was silently engaged in the discussion of a huge 
plateful of turkey.* 

The table was literally loaded with good cheer, 
and presented an epitome of country abundance in 
this season of overflowing larders. A distinguished 
post was alloted to " ancient sirloin," as mine host 
termed it, being, as he added, "the standard of old 
English hospitality, and a joint of goodly presence, 
and full of expectation." There were several 
dishes quaintly decorated, and which had evidently 
something traditional in their embellishments, but 

*The old ceremony of serving up the boar's head on 
Christmas Day is still observed in the hall of Queen's Col- 
lege, Oxford. I was favored by the parson with a copy of 
the carol as now sung, and as it may be acceptable to such 
of my readers as are curious in these grave and learned mat- 
ters, I give it entire : 

The boar's head in hand bear I, 
Bedeck'd with bays and rosemary ; 



THE CHRISTMAS DINNER. 5 1 

about which, as I did not Uke to appear over- 
curious, I asked no questions. 

I could not, however, but notice a pie magnifi- 
cently decorated with peacock's feathers, in imita- 
tion of the tail of tliat bird, which overshadowed a 
considerable tract of the table. This, the squire 
confessed witli some little hesitation, was a pheasant 
pie, though a peacock pie was certainly the most 
authentical ; but there had been such a mortality 
among the peacocks this season that he could not 
prevail upon himself to have one killed.* 

And I pray you, my masters, be merry 
Quot estis in convivio 
Caput apri defero, 
Reddens laudes domino. 

The boar's head, as I understand, 
Is the rarest dish in all this land, 
Which thus bedeck'd with a gay garland 
Let us servire cantico. 
Caput apri defero, etc. 

Our steward hath provided this 
In honor of the King of Bliss, 
Which on this day to be served is 
In Reginensi Atrio. 

Caput apri defero, etc., etc., etc. 

* The peacock was anciently in great demand for stately 
entertainments. Sometimes it was made into a pie, at one 
end of which the head appeared above the crust in all its 
plumage, with the beak richly gilt ; at the other end the tail 
was displayed. Such pies were served up at the solemn 
banquets of chivalry, when knights-errant pledged themselves 
to undertake any perilous enterprise, whence came the ancient 
oath, used by Justice Shallow, " by cock and pie." 



52 OLD CHRISTMAS. 

It would be tedious, perhaps, to my wiser read- 
ers, who may not have that fooUsh fondness for odd 
and obsolete things to which I am a little given, 
were I to mention the other makeshifts of this 
worthy old humorist, by which he was endeavoring 
to follow up, though at humble distance, the quaint 
customs of antiquit3^ I wis pleased, however, to 
see the respect shown to his whims by his children 
and relatives ; who, indeed, entered readily into the 
full spirit of them, and seemed all well versed in 
their parts, having doubtless been present at many 
a rehearsal. I was amused, too, at the air of pro- 
found gravity with which the butler and other 
servants executed the duties assigned them, how- 
ever eccentric. They had an old-fashioned look, 
having, for the most part, been brought up in the 
household and grown into keeping with the anti- 
quated mansion and the humors of its lord, and 
most probably looked upon all his whimsical 
regulations as the established laws of honorable 
housekeeping. 

When the cloth was removed the butler brought 
in a huge silver vessel of rare emd curious work- 
manship, which he placed before the squire. Its 
appearance was hailed with acclamation, being the 
Wassail Bowl, so renowned in Christmas festivity. 
The contents had been prepared by the squire 



,THE CHRISTMAS DINNER. 53 

himself ; for it was a beverage in the skilful mixture 
of which he particularly prided himself, alleging 
that it was too abstruse and complex for the com- 
prehension of an ordinary servant. It was a 
potation, indeed, that might well make the heart of 
a toper leap within him, being composed of the 
richest and raciest wines, highly spiced and sweet- 
ened, with roasted apples bobbing about the sur- 
face."*^ 

The old gentleman's whole countenance beamed 
with a serene look of indwelling delight as he 
stirred this mighty bowl. Having raised it to his 
lips, with a hearty wish of a merry Christmas to 
all present, he sent it brimming round the board, 
for every one to follow his example, according to 
the primitive style, pronouncing it " the ancient 
fountain of good feeling, where all hearts met 
together." t 

There was much laughing and rallying as the 

*The Wassail Bowl was sometimes composed of ale in- 
stead of wine, with nutmeg, sugar, toast, ginger, and roasted 
crabs ; in this way the nut-brown beverage is still prepared 
in some old families and round the hearths of substantial 
farmers at Christmas. It is also called Lamb's Wool, and is 
celebrated by Herrick in his " Twelfth Night " : 

Next crowne the bowle full 

With gentle Lamb's Wool ; 
Add sugar, nutmeg, and ginger ; 

With store of ale too ; 

And thus ye must doe 
To make the Wassaile a swinger. 

t " The custom of drinking out of the same cup gave place 
to each having his cup. When the steward came to the 
doore with the Wassel, he was to cry three times, Wassely 
Wassel, Wassel, and then the chappell (chaplein) was to an- 
swer with a song." — Arch^ologia. 



54 OLD CHRISTMAS. 

honest emblem of Christmas joviality circulated 
and was kissed rather coyly by the ladies. When 
it reached Master Simon, he raised it in both hands, 
and with the air of a boon companion struck up an 
old Wassail chanson : 

The brown bowle, 

The merry brown bowle, 

As it goes round-about-a, 

Fill 

Still, 
Let the world say what it will, 
And drink your fill all out-a. 

The deep canne, 

The merry deep canne, 

As thou dost freely quaff-a, 

Sing 

Fling, 
Be as rnerry as a king. 
And sound a lusty laugh-a. 

Much of the conversation during dinner turned 
upon family topics, to which I was a stranger. 
There was, however, a great deal of rallying of 
Master Simon about some gay widow with whom 
he was accused of having a flirtation. This attack 
was commenced by the ladies, but it was continued 
throughout the dinner by the fat-headed old gentle- 
man next the parson with the persevering assiduity 
of a slow hound, being one of those long-winded 
jokers who, though rather dull at starting game, 
are unrivalled for their talents in hunting it down. 
At every pause in the general conversation he re- 
newed his bantering in pretty much the same terms, 
winking hard at me with both eyes whenever he 
gave Master Simon what he considered a home- 



THE CHRISTMAS DINNER. 55 

thrust. The latter, indeed, seemed fond of being 
teased on the subject, as old bachelors are apt to 
be, and he took occasion to inform me, in an under- 
tone, that the lady in question was a prodigiously 
fine woman and drove her own curricle. 

The dinner-time passed away in this flow of in- 
nocent hilarity, and, though the old hall may have 
resounded in its time with many a scene of broader 
rout and revel, yet I doubt whether it ever wit- 
nessed more honest and genuine enjoyment. How 
easy it is for one benevolent being to diffuse pleas- 
ure around him ! and how truly is a kind heart a 
fountain of gladness, making everything in its vicin- 
ity to freshen into smiles ! The joyous disposition 
of the worthy squire was perfectly contagious ; he 
was happy himself, and disposed to make all the 
world happy, and the little eccentricities of his 
humor did but season, in a manner, the sweetness 
of his philanthropy. 

When the ladies had retired, the conversation, as 
usual, became still more animated ; many good 
things were broached which had been thought of 
during dinner, but which would not exactly do for 
a lady's ear ; and, though I cannot positively affirm 
that there was much wit uttered, yet I have cer- 
tainly heard many contests of rare wit produce 
much less laughter. Wit, after all, is a mighty tart, 
pungent ingredient, and much too acid for some 
stomachs ; but honest good-humor is the oil and 
wine of a merry meeting, and there is no jovial 
companionship equal to that where the jokes are 
rather small and the laughter abundant. 

The squire told several long stories of early col- 
lege pranks and adventures, in some of which the 



56 OLD CHRISTMAS. 

parson had been a sharer, though in looking at the 
latter it required some effort of imagination to 
figure such a little dark anatomy of a man into the 
perpetrator of a madcap gambol. Indeed, the two 
college chums presented pictures of what men may 
be made by their different lots in life. The squire 
had left the university to live lustily on his paternal 
domains in the vigorous enjoyment of prosperity 
and sunshine, and had flourished on to a hearty 
and florid old age ; whilst the poor parson, on the 
contrary, had dried and withered away among dusty 
tomes in the silence and shadows of his stud)\ 
Still, there seemed to be a spark of almost extin- 
guished fire feebly glimmering in the bottom of his 
soul ; and as the squire hinted at a sly story of the 
parson and a pretty milkmaid whom they once met 
on the banks of the Isis, the old gentleman made 
an " alphabet of faces," which, as far as I could 
decipher his physiognomy, I verily believe was in- 
dicative of laughter ; indeed, I have rarely met with 
an old gentleman that took absolute offence at the 
imputed gallantries of his youth. 

I found the tide of wine and wassail fast gaining 
on the dry land of sober judgment. The company 
grew merrier and louder as their jokes grew duller. 
Master Simon was in as chirping a humor as a 
grasshopper filled with dew ; his old songs grew of 
a warmer complexion, and he began to talk maud- 
lin about the widow. He even gave a long song 
about the wooing of a widow which he informed 
me he had gathered from an excellent black-letter 
work entitled Cupid's Solicitor fo?' Love, containing 
store of good advice for bachelors, and which he 
promised to lend me ; the first verse was to this 
effect : 



THE CHRISTMAS DINNER. 57 

He that will woo a widow must not dally, 
He must make hay while the sun doth shine; 

He must not stand with her, shall I, shall I, 
But boldly say, Widow, thou must be mine. 

This song inspired the fat-headed old gentleman, 
who m?de several attempts to tell a rather broad 
story out of Joe Miller that was pat to the purpose ; 
but he always stuck in the middle, everybody rec* 
ollecting the latter part excepting himself. The 
parson, too, began to show the effects of good cheer, 
having gradually settled down into a doze and his 
wig sitting most suspiciously on one side. Just at 
this juncture we were summoned to the drawing- 
room, and I suspect, at the private instigation of 
mine host, whose joviality seemed always tempered 
with a proper love of decorum. 

After the dinner-table was removed the hall was 
given up to the younger members of the family, 
who, prompted to all kind of noisy mirth by the 
Oxonian and Master Simon, made its old walls ring 
with their merriment as they played at romping 
games. I delight in witnessing the gambols of 
children, and particularly at this happy holiday sea- 
son, and could not help stealing out of the drawing- 
room on hearing one of their peals of laughter. 
I found them at the game of blindman's-buff. 
Master Simon, who was the leader of their revels, 
and seemed on all occasions to fulfill the office of 
that ancient potentate, the Lord of Misrule,* was 
blinded in the midst of the hall. The little beings 

* At Christmasse there was in the Kinge's house, whereso- 
ever hee was lodged, a lorde of misrule or mayster of merie 
disportes, and the like had ye in the house of every noble- 
man of honor, or good worshippe, were he spirituall or tem- 
porall. — Stow. 



58 OLD CHRISTMAS. 

were as busy about him as the mock fairies about 
Falstaff, pinching him, plucking at the skirts of his 
coat, and tickhng him witli straws. One fine blue- 
eyed girl of about thirteen, with her flaxen hair all in 
beautiful confusion, her frolic face in a glow, her 
frock half torn off her shoulders, a complete pic- 
ture of a romp, was the chief tormentor ; and, from 
the slyness with which Master Simon avoided the 
smaller game and hemmed this wild little nymph 
in corners, and obliged her to jump shrieking over 
chairs, I suspected the rogue of being not a whit 
more blinded than was convenient. 

When I returned to the drawing-room I found 
the company seated round the fire listening to the 
parson, who was deeply ensconced in a high-backed 
oaken chair, the work of some cunning artificer of 
yore, which had been brought from the library for 
his particular accommodation. From this venerable 
piece of furniture, with which his shadowy figure 
and dark weazen face so admirably accorded, he 
was dealing out strange accounts of the popular 
superstitions and legends of the surrounding 
country, with which he had become acquainted in 
the course of his antiquarian researches. I am 
half inclined to think that the old gentleman was 
himself somewhat tinctured with superstition, as 
men are very apt to be who live a recluse and 
studious life in a sequestered part of the country 
and pore over black-letter tracts, so often filled 
with the marvelous and supernatural. He gave us 
several anecdotes of the fancies of the neighboring 
peasantry concerning the efiigy of the crusader 
which lay on the tomb by the church altar. As it 
was the only monument of the kind in that part of 



THE CHRISTMAS DINNER. 59 

the country, it had always been regarded with 
feelings ot superstition by the good wives of the 
village. It was said to get up from the tomb and 
walk the rounds of the churchyard in stormy nights, 
particularly when it thundered; and one old 
woman, whose cottage bordered on the churchyard, 
had seen it through the windows of the church, 
when the moon shone, slowly pacing up and down 
the aisles. It was the belief that some wrong had 
been left unredressed by the deceased, or some 
treasure hidden, which kept the spirit in a state of 
trouble and restlessness. Some talked of gold and 
jewels buried in the tomb, over which the spectre 
kept watch ; and there was a story current of a 
sexton in old times who endeavored to break his 
way to the coffin at night, but just as he reached it 
received a violent blow from the marble hand of 
the effigy, which stretched him senseless on the 
pavement. These tales w^ere often laughed at by 
some of the sturdier among the rustics, yet when 
night came on there were many of the. stoutest 
unbelievers that were shy of venturing alone in the 
footpath that led across the churchyard. 

From these and other anecdotes that followed 
the crusader appeared to be the favorite hero of 
ghost-stories throughout the vicinity. His picture, 
which hung up in the hall, was thought by the 
servants to have something supernatural about it ; 
for they remarked that in whatever part of the hall 
you went the eyes of the warrior were still fixed on 
you. The old porter's wife, too, at the lodge, who 
had been born and brought up in the family, and 
was a great gossip among the maid-servants, 
affirmed that in her young days she had often 



6o OLD CHRISTMAS. 

heard say that on Midsummer Eve, when it was 
well known all kinds of ghosts, goblins, and fairies 
become visible and walk abroad, the crusader used 
to mount his horse, come down from his picture, 
ride about the house, down the avenue, and so to 
the church to visit the tomb ; on which occasion 
the church-door most civilly swung open of itself ; 
not that he needed it, for he rode through closed 
gates, and even stone walls, and had been seen by 
one of the dairymaids to pass between two bars of 
the great park gate, making himself as thin as a 
sheet of paper. 

All these superstitions I found had been very 
much countenanced by the squire, who, though not 
superstitious himself, was very fond of seeing others 
so. He listened to every goblin tale of the neigh- 
boring gossips with infinite gravity, and held the 
porter's wife in high favor on account of her talent 
for the marvellous. He was himself a great reader 
of old legends and romances, and often lamented 
that he could not believe in them ; for a supersti- 
tious person, he thought, must live in a kind of 
fairy-land. 

Whilst we were all attention to the parson's 
stories, our ears were suddenly assailed by a burst 
of heterogeneous sounds from the hall, in which 
were mingled something like the clang of rude 
minstrelsy with the uproar of many small voices 
and girlish laughter. The door suddenly flew open, 
and a train came trooping into the room that might 
almost have been mistaken for the breaking up of 
the court of Faery. That indefatigable spirit, 
Master Simon, in the faithful discharge of his 
duties as lord of misrule, had conceived the idea 



THE CHRISTMAS DINNER. 6l 

of a Christmas mummery or masking ; and having 
called in to his assistance the Oxonian and the 
young officer, who were equally ripe for anything 
that should occasion romping and merriment, they 
had carried it into instant effect. The old house- 
keeper had been consulted ; the antique clothes- 
presses and wardrobes rummaged and made to 
yield up the relics of finery that had not seen the 
light for several generations ; the younger part of 
the company had been privately convened from 
the parlor and hall, and the whole had been bediz- 
ened out into a burlesque imitation of an antique 
mask."* 

Master Simon led the van, as " Ancient Christ- 
mas," quaintly apparelled in a ruff, a short cloak, 
which had very much the aspect of one of the old 
housekeeper's petticoats, and a hat that might 
have served for a village steeple, and must indu- 
bitably have figured in the days of the Covenanters. 
From under this his nose curved boldly forth, 
flushed with a frost-bitten bloom that seemed the 
very trophy of a December blast. He was accom- 
panied by the blue-eyed romp, dished up, as " Dame 
Mince Pie," in the venerable magnificence of a 
faded brocade, long stomacher, peaked hat, and 
high-heeled shoes. The young officer appeared as 
Robin Hood, in a sporting dress of Kendal green 
and a foraging cap with a gold tassel. 

* Maskings or mummeries were favorite sports at Christ- 
mas in old times, and the wardrobes at halls and manor- 
houses were often laid under contribution to furnish dresses 
and fantastic disguisings, I strongly suspect Master Simon 
to have taken the idea of his from Ben Jonson's Masque of 
Christmas* 



62 OLD CHRISTMAS. 

The costume, to be sure, did not bear testimony 
to deep research, and there was an evident eye to 
the picturesque, natural to a young gallant in the 
presence of his mistress. The fair Julia hung on 
his arm in a pretty rustic dress as " Maid Marian." 
The rest of the train had been metamorphosed in 
various ways ; the girls trussed up in the finery of 
the ancient belles of the Bracebridge line, and the 
striplings bewhiskered with burnt cork, and gravely 
clad in broad skirts, hanging sleeves, and full-bot- 
tomed wigs, to represent the character of Roast 
Beef, Plum Pudding, and other worthies celebrated 
in ancient maskings. The whole was under the 
control of the Oxonian in the appropriate character 
of Misrule ; and I observed that he exercised rather 
a mischievous sway with his wand over the smaller 
personages of the pageant. 

The irruption of this motley crew with beat of 
drum, according to ancient custom, was the consum- 
mation of uproar and merriment. Master Simon 
covered himself with glory by the stateliness with 
which, as Ancient Christmas, he walked a minuet 
with the peerless though giggling Dame Mince 
Pie. It was followed by a dance of all the charac- 
ters, which from its medley of costumes seemed as 
though the old family portraits had skipped down 
from their frames to join in the sport. Different 
centuries were figuring at cross hands and right 
and left ; the Dark Ages were cutting pirouettes 
and rigadoons ; and the days of Queen Bess jig- 
gling merrily down the middle through a line of 
succeeding generations. 

The worthy squire contemplated these fantastic 
sports and this resurrection of his old wardrobe 



THE CHRISTMAS DINNER. 63 

with the simple relish of childish delight. He stood 
chuckling and rubbing his hands, and scarcely hear- 
ing a word the parson said, notwithstanding that 
the latter was discoursing most authentically on the 
ancient and stately dance of the Paon, or peacock, 
from which he conceived the minuet to be derived.* 
For my part, I was in a continual excitement from 
the varied scenes of whim and innocent gayety 
passing before me. It was inspiring to see wild- 
eyed frolic and warm-hearted hospitality breaking 
out from among the chills and glooms of winter, 
and old age throwing off his apathy and catching 
once more the freshness of youthful enjoyment. I 
felt also an interest in the scene from the consider- 
ation that these fleeting customs were posting fast 
into oblivion, and that this was perhaps the only 
family in England in which the whole of them was 
still punctiliously observed. There was a quaint- 
ness, too, mingled with all this revelry that gave it 
a peculiar zest : it was suited to the time and place ; 
and as the old manor-house almost reeled with 
mirth and wassail, it seemed echoing back the 
joviality of long departed years, f 

* Sir John Hawkins, speaking of the dance called the 
Pavon, from pavo, a peacock, says, " It is a grave and majestic 
dance ; the method of dancing it anciently was by gentlemen 
dressed with caps and swords, by those of the long robe in 
their gowns, by the peers in their mantles, and by the ladies 
in gowns with long trains, the motion whereof, in dancing, 
resembled that of a peacock." — History of Miisic. 

t At the time of the first publication of this paper the 
picture of an old-fashioned Christmas in the country was 
pronounced by some as out of date. The author had after- 
wards an opportunity of witnessing almost all the customs 
above described, existing in unexpected vigor in the skirts of 
Derbyshire and Yorkshire, where he passed the Christmas 
holidays. The reader will find some notice of them in tl.- 
author's account of his sojourn at Newstead Abbey. 



64 OLD CHRISTMAS. 

But enough of Christmas and its gambols ; it is 
time for me to pause in this garrulity. Methinks I 
hear the questions asked by my graver readers, 
"To what purpose is all this ? how is the world to 
be made wiser by this talk ? " Alas ! is there not 
wisdom enough extant for the instruction of the 
world ? And if not, are there not thousands of 
abler pens laboring for its improvement ? It is so 
much pleasanter to please than to instruct — to play 
the companion rather than the preceptor. 

What, after all, is the mite of wisdom that I 
could throw into the mass of knowledge ? or how 
am I sure that my sagest deductions may be safe 
guides for the opinions of others ? But in writing 
to amuse, if I fail the only evil is in my own dis- 
appointment. If, however, I can by any lucky 
chance, in these days of evil, rub out one wrinkle 
from the brow of care or beguile the heavy heart 
of one moment of sorrow ; if I can now and then 
penetrate through the gathering film of misanthropy, 
prompt a benevolent view of human nature, and 
make my reader more in good-humor with his 
fellow-beings and himself — surely, surely, I shall 
not then have written entirely in vain. 



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